


he has a way with those words

by darcychick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Rough Sex, scandalous sex on a washing machine, the usual deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 12:22:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4564500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcychick/pseuds/darcychick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laundry day at the bunker, Sam and Y/N are left alone to deal with it. Which one is going to make a move first?</p>
            </blockquote>





	he has a way with those words

**Author's Note:**

> read at my tumblr: http://darcy-chick.tumblr.com/post/125760319586/hi-d-can-i-get-an-imagine-where-sam-x-reader-and

It was laundry day at the bunker, as soon as Dean had heard this news he had left a basket of his tighty whities and scarpered out of the bunker completely. You hadn’t been too impressed when you had found his laundry basket outside your door with a hastily written note on it consisting of an IOU and a wonky smiley face.

Sam, luckily, had stayed to help you. You were glad to have the younger Winchester around sometimes otherwise you were certain you probably would have gone slightly loco.

You admitted you were pleased to have the day to yourselves, due to harbouring a slightly intense crush on Sam. You were determined to make a move and soon. So determined that you had vowed to yourself that the next chance you had you were going to to make a move. It had taken a while, a good couple of weeks to be fully alone with him and now that the chance was here you were almost ready to chicken out.

Laundry day. It wasn’t exactly the most seductive environment, washing Dean’s dirty boxers.

Whilst you dressed, buttoning up your short dress, you mulled over your plan. You scrapped many of your ideas, too ridiculous to even consider. It wasn’t until you bent over to pull a pair of thick socks on, to guard your feet against the cold bunker floor, that the idea came to you.

Fifteen minutes later and you were knocking on Sam’s door, carrying Dean’s laundry hamper.

“Sam!,” You called through the thick door, rapping your knuckles on the metal lightly, “Laundry day,”

You heard sheets rustling, before a bleary voice answered you, “Just gonna get dressed…” The sound of clothes being pulled on followed.

“Well I’m just gonna go down to the laundry room, I’ll meet you there, okay?” You called through, getting an affirmative before walking away down the corridor. Your hands were practically shaking with nerves and excitement.

You were in the middle of sorting out Dean’s clothes when Sam walked in, wearing sweatpants and a baggy grey top, you smiled at his messy hair, not noticing the way his eyes traced up your bare legs.

“I see Dean left you only the good stuff to wash.” Sam nodded to the jeans in your hands, covered in weird sticky, foul smelling goo from the hunt five days ago. They had glued themselves to a pair of boxers and a shirt, cursing Dean, you managed to pull the clothes apart.

“Yeah, you’re telling me. He skipped out about an hour ago, left this.”

You showed him the note stuff to the basket.

Sam snorted after reading it, “We’ll get him back someday, take off and leave both our laundry for him.” He promised, the two of you chuckling.

You spent the next few minutes in quiet, sorting out various clothes. Sam was yawning throughout, noticeably, enough that you asked him if he was alright.

“Yeah, just tired.” He smiled tiredly.

“You can sit down if you want, Sam. I don’t mind, it’s just to have someone to talk to while I work.” You offered, knowing he had been up most of the night researching.

“Are you sure?” He said, hesitating with a shirt in his hands. You nodded, pulling out a chair facing the row of washing machines.

He sat heavily in the chair, leaning against the back-rest tiredly, watching you work.

You bit your lip as you lifted your laundry basket onto the table, hesitating briefly, un-noticeably to Sam, before tipping the contents onto the table. Panties, bras, stockings and thigh high socks lay across the table.

You were watching Sam out of the side of your eye as you sorted through the lacy panties on the table, watching the way he had stiffened, sitting slightly more upright, watching your hands carefully.

He was interested.

A few minutes later and you were ready to put the clothes in the machines, keeping up a friendly chat with Sam, flirting subtly with him, laughing, enjoying the attention he gave you.

You grabbed Dean’s gigantic darks, shoving them in one of the machines, taking note of the strangled breath Sam took in as you bent directly in front of him, short dress revealing the cute lacy panties you had chosen this morning.

You smiled to yourself before turning back to the table, grabbing a pile of light coloured clothing. Sam was watching your every move now, eyes dark. You bit your lip slightly, almost nervous as you moved back over to the machines, bending over to shove the clothes in, you had barely shut the machine door when you felt warm hands tight on your hips.

“Are you teasing me on purpose?” Sam’s breath was warm against the shell of your ear. “I think you are.”

You moan shakily, soft, as he nips the tip of your ear before sucking a kiss into the delicate skin of your neck.

“Do you realise how distracting you are to me?” He breathed, “Everyday, I find myself watching you, imagining your body beneath your clothes, how you would feel around me, how you would taste as you came against my tongue.”

You whine softly as he cups your breasts through your dress, sliding his hands up along your waist, kneading the sensitive flesh, pinching your nipples through your bra until you moan.

“I want you so much, Y/N.” He says, voice tight as he feels the shape of your breasts, gauging your reaction. “Tell me you want this.”

“Please, Sam,” You whine, “I want you to fuck me, please.” Your breathing erratic as he nips along the line of your neck.

Sam laughs against your delicate skin before turning you swiftly, leaning down to catch your lips in a fierce kiss. Your teeth come very near to clicking together, pressing sharply against your lip instead, making you let out a muffled noise of surprise. Sam adjusts the kiss, turning his head to gain better access, before lifting you into his arms, his hands under your thighs, your arms tight around his neck.

He drops you a moment later, already tugging off his shirt, revealing a body that looks like a fucking Greek God. He kisses you again, a harsh meld of lips on lips, hard enough to make your lips ache.

“Teasing me this morning, wearing this dress, bending over on purpose. You want me to fuck you like that?” He asks, his voice deep and   
gravelly, making you ache for him. “Want me to bend you over one of these machines and fuck you until you scream my name?”

You nod desperately, nodding quickly. “Please, Sam.” You beg, smiling when he abruptly turns you around, his hands tight on your hips as he bends you over the machine. Your hands coming out to hold your weight, the vibration tickling your palms.

You feel his hot hands pushing your dress up slightly, a hot palm on your lower back before he’s ripping your panties down. His hands stroke along your inner thighs, “So wet baby, is it for me?” He asks, no doubt in your mind that he’s smirking right now.

You nod, pressing your heated cheek into the cool metal beneath you. “Always for you.”

His fingers are stroking along your pussy now, making your hips press back, desperate for more until he slides two fingers in. Long fingers curling deep inside you, making you moan loudly against the metal.

He creates a fast rhythm, the crook of his fingers catching something inside you that makes you moan and writhe every inwards stroke.

“You ready for my cock?” He asks, and you hear the soft noise of him pulling his sweatpants down,

“Yes, please, Sam, please fuck me.” You sound so desperate that if you were in your right mind you would probably want to crawl under a rock and die.

You don’t regret it though because a moment later with a deep groan, Sam had buried the thick length of himself inside you. 

He set a fast pace, rough enough to make you moan and whine as he hit a spot inside you with every thrust. You knew this wasn’t going to last long; you were both too riled up and desperate for each other.

His hands were hot around you waist and hips as he held you to him, pulling you back to meet his thrusts. His mouth hot as he leaned down to press a biting kiss to the nape of your neck. The change in the angle made you cry out, your fingers clenching futilely at the warming metal of the washing machine.

“Are you close?” He muttered into your skin, fingers pressing in deep into your hips.

You couldn’t do much more than nod desperately as you clenching tightly around him, you were so close, you could feel your orgasm building swiftly, your eyes shut tightly.

Your eyes flew open as Sam’s rough fingertips slid over your clit, slick with your arousal. You nearly screamed as you came abruptly, clenching tightly and rhythmically around his cock, pressing your head down into your arms. Sam’s pants were strangled now, your name mixed in amongst the throaty groans and deep moans. A second later and he was coming, deep and loudly, holding you tight against his hips, his hands stroking along the line of your hips.

His body was heavy when slumped against yours and you were starting to notice how uncomfortable it was bent over the machine. You pushed him off with a laugh, kissing him softly, his big hands cupping your face.

“Wanna head to bed?” Sam murmured against your lips, “Dean can fold the washing.” You laugh and nod, pulling him down for another kiss, squealing against his lips when he abruptly lifts you, hooking your legs around his waist as he walks back to his bedroom.

You would thank Dean later for skipping out on Laundry day.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @ : darcy-chick.tumblr.com
> 
> I always follow back!


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